Just A Few Numbers Away

Chapter 103

The Safe Harbor

The black Hyundai Grandeur sat quietly at the curb, blending seamlessly into the line of professional luxury sedans.

To a stranger, it was just another executive car in Gangnam.

But to Aen, the specific, sharp glow of its integrated LED headlights was a beacon in the gray late afternoon.

​Yoongi was standing by the passenger door, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert.

He wasn't wearing his stage gear or the heavy, expensive coats of a "Global Icon."

He was in his social service attire-simple, dark, and understated-yet he still carried that lethal, "formidable" stillness that commanded the space around him.

He had been on edge since noon.

During his lunch break, a strange, cold uneasiness had settled in his chest-a phantom weight he couldn't quite explain.

He had messaged her immediately, his thumb hovering over the screen until her reply came through: I'm okay, Yoon. Just busy.

​He had forced himself to relax then, attributing the feeling to the stress of his dual life.

But now, seeing her emerge from the lobby, the lie of that text message was laid bare.

​The moment Aen reached him, the "sleek" professional facade he maintained for the public vanished.

​She didn't care about the car's brand or the people watching.

She walked straight into his chest, her head dropping onto his shoulder.

Her hands gripped the front of his dark work clothes, her fingers trembling as they bunched the fabric.

​"Take me home, Yoon," she whispered, the words a broken plea against the steady rhythm of his heart.

"Please."

​Yoongi didn't hesitate.

He didn't check the clock or worry about his shift.

He wrapped his arms around her, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of her head, physically shielding her from the lobby she had just fled.

He had felt the tremor the moment she touched him, but now that she was anchored to him, he could feel the sheer force of her distress radiating through her entire body.

Something was definitely off.

The "okay" she had messaged him was a shield that had clearly been shattered.

The "sleek black car" was right there, a silent vault waiting to carry her away from the ghost on the sidewalk.

​"I'm here," he murmured into her hair, his voice dropping into that low, grounding frequency that only she was allowed to hear.

"We're going home."

As he guided her into the car, his eyes flickered once more toward the building entrance.

The "unease" from lunch hadn't disappeared-it had sharpened into a cold, protective rage.

​If someone dared to hurt Aen whilst knowing she was tied to him, then he knew one thing for certain:

​They had just made themselves an enemy of the Min Household.

​He pulled the car away from the curb, the engine a low, dangerous hum.

He wasn't just driving home; he was retreating to his base of operations.

By the time they reached the gates of Hannam, his silence wasn't just calm-it was the quiet before a very targeted, very systematic storm.